


The Lives and Times of Would-be Heroes

by wildzubat



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Status Effects
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:24:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildzubat/pseuds/wildzubat
Summary: A series of small scenes and stories, mostly about various members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.Some are recently inspired by the lore book. Others predate it and have only just now been transferred from journals and scrap paper to the computer. In the end, there will probably be a little bit of everything here and will update tags accordingly





	1. Lominsan Street Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'shtola experiences a new delicious treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The everyday fare of [Sharlayan] is good for the body, but otherwise is quite bland. Accordingly, many groans can be heard from foreign students come meal time.” - Encyclopedia Eorzea

After her first meal in Limsa Lominsa - simple street fare, purchased on her way from the dock to the Aetheryte for attunement - Y’shtola decided she was forever ruined for her homeland’s meals. The salted, fried fish had smelled wonderful and tasted even better, and - in a rare loss of refinement - she found herself licking her fingers after that she might not miss a speck of the spiced breading or the fresh, hot flaky fish flesh.

It was not, of course, that Sharlayan cuisine was unpalatable - it was just... so bland by comparison. And this - this freshest of just caught fish, coated in a savory blend of flour, eggs and spices? It was a breath of fresh, new air after a lifetime in a cave.

It took all of Y’shtola’s formidable willpower not to turn around then and there for a second helping.


	2. Couldn't Find A Ladder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A possible (if a bit silly) first meeting between Urianger and Thancred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So learning that Urianger (and Moenbryda) are younger than many of their compatriots among the Scions of the Seventh Dawn floored me a bit, and this scene came to mind as I was pondering the former Circle of Knowing’s lives as students...
> 
> I was imagining this being within the first few months of Thancred's being in Sharlayan, so he hasn't yet trained himself out of the Lominsan way of speaking. ... but I'm also not very good at writing accents/dialect, so I do apologize.

Urianger rounded the corner of one of the many library hallways and stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at a hyur boy, not much older than he, scaling the shelves. Not quite able to believe his eyes - who would dare risk damaging the shelves or the precious tomes contained thereupon? still more - who would dare risk incurring the wrath of the library’s custodians so?! - Urianger blinked several times before crying out:

“What in the seven hells art thou doing?!”

The sudden voice startled the boy, but to his dubious credit, he did not lose his footing, as he shifted to look down at Urianger, crossing his arms and doing his best to appear as stern and disapproving as possible. Neither his face nor his scrawny, scruffy appearance were familiar to the elezen, but to his surprise, the face lit up with a sheepish grin.

“I jes’ wanted t’get me mitts on this ‘ere tome an’ couldn’t find a ladder,” the climber hissed in a stage whisper that Urianger found hard to decipher through the thick accent.“Won’t be a moment.”

Urianger watched aghast as the boy kept climbing until he found the book in question and slid it from its place, taking surprising care not to damage or drop it as he slid it into a shoulder bag. The boy looked down again, thoughtful.

“Anywhat you want s’long as’m up ‘ere?”

Stunned, Urianger _meant_ to say no and demand he descend this instant, but instead he found himself stammering the title of the book he came here for amid a protest and another incredulous question of what the other was doing. The protests fell on deaf ears, however, as the boy was already off two shelves over and three down. Against his better judgement, Urianger was impressed that the boy knew right where to go - and then worried. What other unspoken Rules of the library had the boy broken in apparently repeated clambers up and down the shelves?

He was broken out of his fretting when the boy jumped down beside him and held out the book, still grinning in a hopeful sort of way. Bemused, Urianger took the proffered tome and stared.

“Sorry t’ve worried ye. Th’name’s Thancred.”

“I - ah ... Urianger Augurelt.”

“Pleased t’meet ye, Urianger.” A little embarrassed now, Thancred ran a hand through his messy white hair, rubbing the back of his head. “Pray do me a favor, won’t ye? Please don’t squeak t’the porrogos or the owls ‘bout this.”


	3. A Ribbiting Lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Thancred still new to Sharlayan learns the hard way not to fall back into old habits...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the black mages in FFIV's Mysidia who cast status effects on Cecil.

The study is at once both comfortable and intimidating. The walls are lined with shelves stacked high with books of all sorts, softened with scattered trinkets - a few of which have the look of the clumsy sculptures and crafts children make. Covered in notes and diagrams, a standalone cork board leans against one wall, and a small telescope - partially covered against dust - stands at the ready before the sole window. Dust motes dance in the light streaming through, and the faint musty smell of old books and parchment permeates the air. In the center of the room is a sturdy desk covered in neat stacks of papers, pens, a compass and other assorted items including a half-empty tea cup and a glass bowl half-filled with wrapped candies.

An elezen man sits behind the desk. Tall and thin, as elezen are wont to be, he sits straight, with his hands clasped atop his desk while he gazes sternly at a slight hyuran boy slouched in one of two wooden chairs before the desk. The man has white hair, neatly combed back (though beginning to recede), and a neatly trimmed white beard framing a brown, weathered face and bright eyes - warm despite the disapproval in his frown.

The boy also has whitish hair, considerably less kempt, falling in his face and just brushing his shoulders unevenly where it has fallen out of the ribbon tying it back. His shoulders hunch in defensively as his brown eyes look anywhere but at the man’s face, and his restless hands pick at the hem of his tunic.

“You were warned of what would happen if you betook old habits here,” the man says, firm and disappointed but not angry. The fatherly voice of one who expects the very best of those he cares for. “For all that this is a land of pace, there are many here with great aetheric prowess, and you should count yourself lucky you were only turned into a toad.”

The youth slumps a little further, cheeks reddening with embarrassment, but he says nothing in his defense (afraid, perhaps, of naught but a ribbit coming out), and the man sighs.

“Thancred... If there is aught you require, you need only ask rather than resort to thievery. I promised you a better life if you lived up to your potential, but this? This isn’t it.” There’s something sad in his gaze as it softens. “Trust me. Us. Ere you lose our own.”

Thancred swallows and slowly looks up. He stills, holding the man’s gaze for a long moment, as if searching for something. Then, at last, he nods and murmurs, “I’m sorry...”

“It is not me to whom you needs must apologize, child. But... I think that can wait a short while.” A smile tugs at the man’s lips. “At least until the urge to eat flies has worn off.” (Thancred cringes a little; he had hoped the man hadn’t noticed the way he’d been eyeing a moth fluttering by the window earlier.)

He stands and strides around the desk, heading for the door. “Come. This _does_ serve as a reminder that it is high time you start learning a little aetheric control of your own, and I believe there is a tutorial on curative spells being given to some of the children in the academy in half a bell. If we hurry, you should be able to sit in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the super long delay - to be honest when I swapped computers, I kind of forgot about posting more. But hopefully I'll remember better going forward. c:
> 
> This was written back in the gap between 2.55 and 3.0, but I like to think it still slots into canon fairly neatly, given what we've learned from the lore book and character dialogue about Sharlayan and studying there since. It was originally meant as an Echo sequence for a RP thread with a friend; hence any sort of weird distance in the set up.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
